Tall, Dark & Reckless

by Heather MacAllister

  “He’s mirroring. When you find someone attractive, you match their body language and expressions.”

  Mark knew about mirroring, but he didn’t think it applied here.

  Piper stared intently. “I wish I could make out what they’re saying and why she’s holding that French fry like it’s going to bite her.”

  “He told her the mustard is his favorite and she said she’s not much of a mustard fan and he said it wasn’t ordinary mustard and she should try it.”

  She glanced at him. “You read lips?”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth. “It comes in handy.”

  “I wish I was better at it,” Piper said as the guy stuffed the whole fry in his mouth.

  “Mmm,” she said, and scribbled one of her notes. She said mmm a lot and he sensed it wasn’t positive.

  Mark was about to tell Piper that he’d figured out the guy’s problem when the girl took a huge bite of her fry—would that be mirroring? As they watched, her eyes got huge, she coughed and grabbed for her water. “Hot Chinese mustard I’m guessing?”

  “It’s on the menu, but I’ve never had it,” Piper said. “And now I don’t think I ever will.”

  The girl dabbed at her eyes and fanned her face.

  “You’re kidding,” Mark said when the guy hid a smile. “Did you see that?”

  “Yes.”

  “I expected you to sound more outraged.”

  “I’ve seen worse.”

  The poor girl had barely recovered when her date did the strangest thing—he moved the sauce server a little to one side and nudged her drink glass. Then he ate a fry off her plate and sat back. Sniffing, the girl repositioned the sauce server and her glass and arranged her fries to fill the hole left by the one he’d snitched. Fascinating. But wasting time.

  “Well, I think we’ve identified the problem here,” Mark said.

  “Have we?”

  “Oh, come on. She’s a little OCD and he’s a jerk.”

  Piper continued to watch the couple, but it was obvious to Mark that this was the first and last date for these two. “That guy totally isn’t into her. So now what?”

  Before Piper could answer, Mark caught sight of their server bearing down on them with a huge platter of fries and two of the sauce holders hooked over her arm.

  “It’s the Friezen prize platter,” Piper said with awe in her voice as a mountain of fries appeared in front of him. “Wow, Toni.”

  The server, who was eyeing Mark with exactly the kind of direct, uncomplicated interest he liked, glanced at Piper.

  “Oh.” Blinking, Toni straightened. “Piper, you should have waved me over. Are you ready to order now?”

  Piper brought her finger to her lips. “Sorry,” Toni mouthed with a glance at the couple.

  “Mark and I are sharing,” Piper said, making it sound like so much more.

  That was interesting.

  Toni’s smile grew brittle as she looked from one to the other drawing exactly the conclusion Piper wanted her to. She dumped a handful of extra napkins next to the sauces. “Enjoy.”

  This time, there was no sway in her walk as she moved down the bar.

  “Was that nice?” Mark asked mildly.

  “You’ll leave her a big tip to make up for it.”

  “Is that what my type does?”

  She took a plank-style fry and dipped it into a creamy sauce. “Along with ninety percent of the other types.” She took a bite. “Mmm.” And it was an entirely different mmm from her critical mmms. It was a moany little mmm and definitely meant good. Mark would bet French fries weren’t the only thing that elicited a moany little mmm.

  “Béarnaise sauce. I never wanted to waste one of my choices on the béarnaise.” She stared at the half-eaten fry in her hand. “Now, why didn’t I think I would like it?”

  Mark tried some. Yeah. Definitely moanworthy. He’d tasted three more combinations before he realized that the past few minutes, he’d been thinking about nothing but the taste of the French fries. Hot and crisp, just the right amount of salt. Great naked, even.

  Just then, Piper gave another of her little mmms so it was inevitable that his next thought would be that Piper would be great naked. He couldn’t keep having these thoughts about her, at least not right now while she was sitting next to him moaning and licking her lips. Her full, pouty lips.

  Warning. Disengage.

  He set down the matchstick potatoes he’d been dipping in the peanut sauce. He drew two deep breaths. He sipped his water.

  Then he listened to the sound effects from Piper and knew he was in trouble if he didn’t put physical distance between them.

  Piper hadn’t looked at the couple behind them since the fries arrived, so Mark checked on them for her.

  “Hey. The lovebirds aren’t doing so well.”

  Guilty surprise flashed across her face and she swiveled to look in the mirror.

  Everything on the couple’s table had been set in strict lines. As they watched, the girl finished arranging all the fries on her platter parallel to each other. By length.

  “Uh-oh,” Piper said. “It always takes a long time to get over stress-induced—”

  “You know, she’s not the only one with a problem.” Mark threw down his napkin and slid off the stool. “I can fix this.”

  “Mark!”

  He ignored Piper’s angry whisper. Why waste time when he could just show these two what they were doing wrong? “I only need a couple of minutes tops,” he promised Piper.

  “Mark!” She reached for his arm, but he pulled away.

  “Relax and watch how it’s done.”

  * * *

  IF SHE HADN’T BEEN DISTRACTED by the most wonderful fries in the universe, she would have predicted something like this. Too bad she’d been using the fries to distract her from Mark, who had very cleverly revealed deeply private emotions about his childhood, which had prompted a few revelations of her own. Only, she knew he hadn’t been clever on purpose. She wished he had been. She really did. It would be so much easier to dislike him for trying to manipulate her. And she needed to dislike him to remain emotionally detached. Negative plus positive equaled safe. Neutral plus positive meant trouble.

  Speaking of trouble, she couldn’t stop Mark from interfering with her couple without drawing attention to herself. And maybe she wouldn’t have stopped him even if she could. It’s how I make things happen, he’d said. Here was the famous Mark Banning impulsiveness in action and she had a ringside seat.

  Besides, she had all these fries sitting in front of her. Wouldn’t want them to get cold.

  Mark turned on the charm—maybe a bit too much judging by the deer-in-the-headlights look from her couple.

  Wow. What a smile. Were those dimples? She hadn’t noticed dimples before. These weren’t cheerleader-cute dimples, either. These were manly dimples. She didn’t know manly dimples existed, but Mark sure had them. Piper mindlessly grabbed from the platter and without looking, jabbed her fries into the nearest sauce. Was it possible to dimple at will? To have dimples only when you wanted? Was there some kind of dimple muscle you could exercise?

  Dimples were very appealing, Piper decided, helping herself to another grease-laden potato.

  Mark put his hand on Vanny’s shoulder and a moment later, they’d changed places. Mark gracefully slid into the booth.

  Slick. He’s slick, Piper thought. I should remember that. I don’t like slick people.

  And then she registered the taste in her mouth and grimaced. Curry. Not a fan. Searching among the sauces, she plucked out the little cup of golden sauce and set it aside.

  “You see how I’m sitting,” she heard Mark say. Everyone within twenty feet could hear him.

  Piper went for a reddish sauce. Cajun with a nice bite. Appropriate because she was feeling like she wanted to bite somebody. Somebody like Mark.

  “Positioning your body like this tells her you’re interested. Sitting like this—” and he slouched in an excellent imitation o
f Vanny’s posture “—says you’d rather be somewhere else.”

  “Uh, sir?” Vanny protested.

  “Just watch and learn.” Mark leaned forward in the “interested” position he’d demonstrated.

  Piper and Vanny watched Mark charm—that word again—Medina. He swept away the silly barrier of condiments she’d built and she didn’t try to line them up again. He plucked fries from her carefully arranged platter, destroying the order. She didn’t notice.

  He chatted—probably wittily. His eyes stayed on her—probably appreciatively. He laughed and it even sounded genuine. Then he said something—probably an outrageous compliment.

  Medina’s cheeks pinkened and she touched her hair.

  Exhaling, Piper selected fries with salsa. Mark had some serious moves. It was a little frightening.

  Medina asked him something and Mark launched into a lengthy answer. Piper had no idea what the topic was, but Mark had leaned forward and was gesturing with his hands the way he did when he really believed in what he was saying. She’d noticed it at the meeting and during his lecture. He projected an attractive intensity without become preachy or arrogantly pompous.

  Funny how that day in his office he’d come across as both.

  While he spoke with her, Medina’s entire body rearranged itself without seeming to move. Her muscles visibly relaxed, her shoulders tilted, and her hands stopped their nervous clenching and unclenching.

  “That’s better,” Piper heard him say. “You look much more relaxed and so I feel relaxed.” He paused, smiled and held her gaze for at least four counts. “Relaxed is very attractive.”

  Holy cow. Piper swallowed. Did any female stand a chance of resisting him?

  Mark took one of Medina’s fries and dipped it into plain, old ketchup. “Ready for some fun?”

  Medina nodded and Mark offered her the fry. When she reached for it, he held the fry away. “You want me to feed you.”

  “I do?”

  “You do. Lean forward.”

  “Seriously?” Piper murmured as Medina leaned toward Mark with her mouth open.

  “First lean, then open,” he said.

  “Can I have a do-over?” Medina asked.

  “Absolutely.” Mark held out the fry and Piper found herself mindlessly eating from the platter.

  Medina gave a little shoulder shake in preparation and then locked eyes with Mark. Slowly, she leaned forward.

  “That’s it,” Mark encouraged her. “Now what you want to do here is bump your lip against the sauce.”

  Medina bumped and immediately grabbed for a napkin leaving Mark still holding a French fry above the middle of the table. And he didn’t look ridiculous doing it.

  “The bump was good,” he told her. “Very realistic and natural. The whole idea is to lick the sauce off.”

  Medina looked uncertainly at him. “The French fry?”

  He smiled patiently. “Your lips.”

  Piper’s tingled as he spoke.

  Medina leaned forward and smiled appealingly as the fry touched her mouth. Medina was a very fast learner.

  “Good. Now lick it off—too fast.” He bumped her lip again. “Lick it off slowly, but not porn-star slowly.”

  “What’s porn-star slowly?” she asked.

  “Never mind. Just don’t exaggerate. Yes,” he said after Medina’s second attempt. “That’s good.”

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “Open your mouth a little and nibble the fry in.”

  It looked totally contrived to Piper, but Vanny seemed fascinated.

  “Now you feed me,” Mark instructed. He threw a glance toward Vanny. “Pay attention.”

  “I am so paying attention,” Vanny assured him.

  Giggling, Medina picked up a fry and offered it to Mark.

  He closed his hand over her wrist, holding it in place. Gazing into her eyes, he slowly ate the fry and when it was gone, he drew a couple of her fingers into his mouth.

  “Whoa,” Vanny mouthed.

  No way, Piper thought. That was the corniest thing she’d ever seen. And yet, her fingertips tingled and she swore she felt Mark’s tongue on them. She wanted to feel Mark’s tongue on them. She wanted to feel Mark’s tongue everywhere.

  Medina stared unblinking as Mark nibbled and did who knows what to her fingers.

  This had to stop. The young men Medina dated would never act this way. They couldn’t pull it off.

  But it worked for Mark. Deliberately looking away, Piper grabbed for the paper napkins and wiped her hands. She was finished with fries forever. How could she ever eat them without thinking of Mark?

  When she looked again, Medina had a gooey expression on her face—wide, unblinking eyes, slack jaw, parted lips. Piper knew how she felt. And I’ll bet I looked exactly the same way that day in his office.

  With a jolt she felt all the way to her stomach, she realized Mark got that you’re-so-handsome-I-can’t-breathe expression a lot. He’d seen it on her face, too.

  “Are you single?” Medina asked. Piper read her lips clearly.

  So did Vanny. “Hey, now. Have you forgotten that you’re on a date with me?”

  “Yes,” Medina said.

  Mark smiled, maybe even chuckled, his head ducking modestly. “I’m flattered,” he told Medina, which Piper could have predicted. He said something else she couldn’t make out and as he did so, he straightened, withdrawing his hands from the table and moving them out of sight. When he finished letting Medina down, his smile was kind, not sexy, and it certainly wasn’t one of his killer charming ones. Very nicely done.

  But something about the scene and his posture looked familiar to Piper. Though Mark was very clearly withdrawing, Medina couldn’t see it. She actually scooted forward until the edge of the table pressed into her midriff. Piper wasn’t sure what she was saying, but she said it with an eager desperation that was uncomfortable to witness.

  Piper was about to intervene when Mark slouched against the back of the booth and Piper got another shock of recognition. It was his office chair pose. He was going through the same withdrawing and increasingly insolent body-language routine as he had with Piper.

  Her face flamed—she saw it in the mirror. She felt a little sick and a lot embarrassed.

  He spoke and whatever he said to Medina had her blinking as though she’d come out of a trance. Piper remembered feeling that way, too.

  “Okay. That’s enough.” Vanny tapped Mark on the shoulder.

  When they’d switched places and Vanny sat in the booth again, Medina actually smiled at him. Clearly, she’d recovered from the Mark Banning enchantment faster than Piper had, finger licking and all.

  How could she work with him now?

  Piper spent a few moments trying to come up with a plausible explanation for reneging on her deal with Travis and then she got mad. Why was she embarrassed? She’d returned his key and he’d totally misread her. She’d been doing him a favor, not flinging herself at him. He was the one who should be embarrassed for thinking he was so incredibly attractive that she wouldn’t be able to control herself in his presence. And the offer to help was only because BT had suggested it first.

  He’d completely overreacted. Piper wasn’t denying that’d she’d—briefly—found him attractive, but she hadn’t imagined the interest on his part, either. And no, she was not counting his heavy-handed flirting today. She remembered those moments when they’d looked into each other’s eyes and the way he’d smiled when he’d recognized her.

  And then he’d spoiled it all, which made her angry all over again. Good. She’d use her anger as a shield. Mark was now her client, so they’d be working together. She had no doubt he’d try to charm her and any woman he hired into doing what he wanted. It was automatic with him.

  That was going to stop. He didn’t get to flirt and smile and lick fingers, and then smack women down when they responded. She thought of Medina’s face and what her own must have looked like, and shuddered.

  Right then, P
iper vowed that never again would Mark Banning put that expression on her face.

  8

  Step eight: Do you have chemistry together? Now’s the time to find out.

  SHE WAS GONE. IN THE FEW minutes the guy had blocked Mark’s view of the bar seating, Piper had packed up her stuff and walked out. She’d left behind a whole lot of fries, too.

  Mark popped a couple into his mouth as he tossed enough money onto the counter to cover whatever he owed and a tip that would land somewhere between generous and truly memorable.

  Then he took off after Piper. He guessed she was ticked off or she would have hung around to thank him. Or at least to finish the fries. But they were cold now, anyway.

  He spotted her a block ahead and launched into an ungainly hopping jog. “Hey, Piper! Wait up!”

  She kept walking.

  Mark slowed to a walk. If she wasn’t going to talk to him, he wasn’t going to risk his leg. “We have an appointment!” he called after her.

  She whipped around and glared until he caught up. “At my office. Where I am going.” The fall breeze caught strands of the wig and she brushed it impatiently away from her face.

  Mark stared at her mouth, remembering the half smile. He’d like to see it from this angle. No chance of that now. “You’re mad.”

  “Yes.”

  She continued walking, but at a slower pace, which irritated him. Irrationally, but it did.

  “Don’t slow down on my account.”

  She sped up and he knew he’d pay later. “All right, yes, do slow down on my account.”

  She did. “Do you ever think before you speak or act? Or do you always just start right in and figure stuff out as you go along?”

  “You snooze, you lose,” he said.

  “When you’re sleep-deprived, you make mistakes,” she countered.

  “Better imperfect than nothing” was his response. He’d had discussions like this before.

  Piper’s steps slowed even more and she had the strangest expression on her face. “You’re right.”

  Which was not what he’d expected her to say.

  Then she picked up the pace and her tone hardened. “But not always. Sometimes nothing is better than a bad something.”